Cursed Fun
by Dragon Soarer
Summary: Where Harry is sick, Ron is a dunderhead, and Snape is a gamer. Though Snape being a gamer can only be a figment of dunderhead!Ron's immagination, of course. Who else would ever have confused Dreamless Sleep potion with a muggle DS?


Cursed Fun

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It was a bad day for one Harry Potter in the Hospital Wing. In fact, it was a bad week. For you see, Harry was the unfortunate victim of an unfortunate curse. In the last battle, a dark purple jet of light had hit him squarely in the chest, and since then, he was forced to relive his worst nightmares while sleeping, and have to deal with an inordinate amount of pain during while awake. And it only went downhill from there.

Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape were doing all they could for the boy, but slowly but surely, his condition kept worsening as each second ticked. When administering potions and applying other types of medications or healing treatment, the only people other than Harry and Madame Pomfrey herself who were allowed in the Hospital Wing were Snape and Dumbledore. The room otherwise remained empty, mainly because it was the summer vacations, and all students and most teachers had returned home for the much needed break from hyperactive students. Mainly Fred and George, but you don't need to know that. Saying they needed a break from students in general is fine.

Molly Weasley had suggested, upon her last visit, calling a Healer from St. Mungo's, but all the other adults had voted otherwise, claiming the fewer who knew about the Boy-Who-Lived's current condition, the better. Of course, they could be sworn to secrecy, but it was better not to take any risks if possible. After all, the last thing they needed was Rita Skeeter making an article on the subject. When Dumbledore mentioned this, even Ron – the biggest dunderhead Hogwarts ever knew, Snape claimed confidently – could now visualize the lies enclosed in said article. The entire Weasley family laid off their suggestions on how to help after that.

In hours convenient to both Madame Pomfrey and her patient, visitors were allowed. Depending on how Harry was feeling at the moment, it could be as few as one or two visitors, or as much as the whole Weasley family plus Neville, Luna, Hermione – and any others who deigned to visit – at once. The latter rarely happened though, for obvious reasons. Even the Hospital Wing could only accommodate so many at a same time.

At certain specific time intervals, which Harry was in too much pain to figure out, he would have to drink some potions Snape had brewed. At first, the boy was reluctant to drink anything the Greasy Git had touched, let alone brewed, let alone_ invented_, but he got used to it; it wasn't as if he even had a choice. If he drank the potion, most likely he would remain the same, but there were chances that the pain and nightmares would improve. There was also the off occasion when it would make them worse, but that happened rarely. In the end, even the stubborn Gryffindor had to accept that Severus Snape was more than adept in the field of potions making.

Even the taste was improving with time. Go figure why Snape of all people would try to make the taste of medical potions improve for one Harry Potter, but that he did. Unless it was pure coincidence, but he had learned over time that nothing was a matter of coincidence when it came to the Potions Master. The thought to thank him had crossed his mind once or twice, but Harry was rarely awake when he visited. The boy supposed he had enough already of dealing with his enemy unconscious, and probably didn't want to visit when he was awake. He would talk to Madame Pomfrey, they would sometimes exchange ideas on what to modify in the potions to make them more effective, and he would brew them in his own time and bring them to her when she needed them. She was always the one administering said potions.

A few times Harry could catch a glimpse of a tall dark figure entering or leaving the infirmary, but that was all. He would hear all the rest from his friends, the other Weasleys, Dumbledore, or Madame Pomfrey. But he really should thank the man for his trouble. He was sure taking care of the brat he most disliked – hated, even – was not near the top of his to-do list, especially during the summer holidays when he was free to do what he wanted. Hang on; what _did_ Snape do during the summer vacations? Huh, that thought alone was enough to occupy his mind and slightly distract him of the searing pain in his body.

However, Harry had no idea that when the occasion of thanking his Professor finally arose, he would be so occupied with stifling his laughter that anything else would temporarily be blown out of his mind. For that was when a thought he would never even have contemplated in the weirdest situations crossed his mind: Severus Snape, the gamer. And he only had Ron to thank for the incredibly hilarious conversation that happened in the Hospital Wing that day. Ron Weasley, the dunderhead.

That day, a week and a half after being hit by the curse, Harry was finally feeling a bit better. Thanks to the joint efforts of Madame Pomfrey, Snape, and Dumbledore, Harry's nightmares became less frequent and less terrifying, and the pain throughout his body reduced, though it was still significantly more than a throb. However, he was now able to not only stay awake, but remain conscious of what went on around him despite the pain, and talk coherently. Ron and Hermione were both there, though any other visitors were absent that day. Oh, what any of them would probably have given to hear that conversation – even Malfoy would probably have wanted to be in the infirmary at that time. Under pretense that he was sick or hurt, of course. He would never be caught dead to stand willingly in the presence of Harry Potter and his followers, as he liked to think of them, unless it was to hurt him. But Snape the gamer? Come on, even Malfoy had a sense of humor great enough to appreciate the irony.

"Harry!" An ecstatic cry came from the entrance. It was Hermione.

"Glad to hear you're feelin' better, mate! Wanna play chess?" Ron. Typical.

He grunted in reply, and was glad to hear a half-hearted yelp that signified Hermione had swatted him on the back of his head. He just hoped the book she used was Most Potente Potions. It was the heaviest book he could think of under the pain.

"Ron, Hermione." Even he could hear the smile in his voice. It was great to see his friends; not only did they make him as happy as possible while under this curse, but while they were there, Madame Pomfrey tended to keep her fussing at a minimum. And that was saying a lot for the Healer.

It was then that they heard the doors open. It might not be the same doors, but the Golden Trio would still recognize the barging-through-the-doors-with-cape-billowing style anywhere. Professor Snape had just made his entrance.

Harry opened his mouth, and was about to thank the man, despite the horrible memories seeing him brought to mind. But he stopped short when Madame Pomfrey spoke before he could, and started a conversation that would later become legend to certain kids named James Potter, Albus Potter, Lily Potter, Hugo Weasley, Rose Weasley, and Scorpius Malfoy. "Severus, finally! I trust you at last completed it?"

A well known smirk altered his features for a flicker of a moment before he replied in all seriousness, "Yes, I did complete it. The highest level there ever is in matters of DS. It was quite hard to do, if I do say so myself. It took me the better part of the night and morning to acquire new strategies to do so. Unfortunately, there were no tips I could anywhere, since this level of DS is so new."

Madame Pomfrey, Harry, and Hermione nodded in understanding. As for Ron, he burst out laughing.

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, in which the only sound heard was a barely stifled giggling from the redhead, Snape finally snapped. "What is it, Weasley? Did you doubt my abilities?"

"N-no, S-sir." Another giggle. "I just never would've thought that…" More laughing.

"Um, Ron, what is it?" Harry finally asked.

"Oh, come on guys, you can't tell me you ever knew that Snape here was interested in video games. I mean… he's _Snape_!"

At that, everybody was confused. But suddenly, it dawned on both muggle-raised teens in the room what he was talking about. Now they were both trying to hide their laughter as well. None of them was succeeding very much.

"Ron… come on. I was raised by muggles, and even _I_ know that DS stands for Dreamless Sleep. I knew that even before they started giving it to me for my nightmares. You can't seriously have thought that Snape… that Snape…" He desperately wanted to apologize to the teacher for laughing about this, but he couldn't for the very same reason; he was laughing too hard.

Suddenly Madame Pomfrey was at his bedside. "Breathe, Potter. You need to breathe, you're just aggravating your condition. Whatever it is you find funny about the DS, it is the highest level there is; Severus made it up himself; he has been working on this project all week. It should stop your nightmares for at least three days, if not more. So please stop joking around and drink your potion."

Madame Pomfrey had explained to him at the beginning of his stay that the DS they would be giving him would stop him from dreaming at night, but would not put him into a forced slumber. Therefore, he gulped the potion down. The liquid that trickled down his throat suddenly made him gag – Snape hadn't taken care of the taste for this one. But he supposed it was enough to ask to make up a completely new potion from scratch, without adding nice taste of which the ingredients might spoil the effects. He forced himself to swallow the rest and handed the vial back to the Healer.

Maybe it was lucky that the taste had been so horrible; it had kept his attention, and prevented his thoughts from wandering off to Snape playing on the DS, which would almost certainly have made him spit out the potion in laughter. And with his luck, it would have splattered right onto someone's face. Snape, the gamer? Only Ron, the dunderhead, would ever think of something like that.

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances.

"The only way Ron could have learned what a muggle DS is…" Hermione started. The answer was spoken in unison.

"His father. He must have gotten a hold of one," Harry continued.

"Imagine Arthur Weasley, bent down over a DS, in utter concentration on his game!" Hermione managed between bouts of laughter.

Harry was in hysterics now. "Worse; Percy!"

Apparently Ron found this even more hilarious than his envisioning of Snape. Who knows, maybe it was because unlike with Snape, he had actually witnessed some of these events Harry and Hermione were busy imagining? The Potions Professor certainly hoped not. He might have been raised partly in the muggle world, but that was long ago, and the DS did not exist then, and he didn't keep in touch with muggle technology ever since he came to Hogwarts. However, he wasn't stupid. While he wasn't known to be Ravenclaw material, the Sorting Hat must surely have considered it at some point. He had figured out by now that the DS must be some sort of electronic game, and while the thought of himself playing with one of them scared him more than the Dark Lord, he had to admit that the thought of Arthur or Percy Weasley doing so amused him immensely. It was then that he had another thought.

"Or Malfoy," he mused. He hadn't meant to say the thought aloud, but when the kids imagined Draco completely engrossed on a DS game, they laughed even more, if that was possible. He had, of course, meant Lucius at first, but even he almost laughed at the image the Golden Trio was now bringing to mind. He fought a smile. He couldn't be seen out of character now.

Plenty more names were uttered in the Hospital Wing that night; Dumbledore, Voldemort, Crabbe and Goyle, Lavendar Brown, Viktor Krum… It went on and on and on, and so did the laughing. It must have been contagious, because even Snape was not able to fight a chuckle now and then. But the others paid no mind to the fact that the stoic Potions Master was capable of humor, so engrossed in the conversation they were. But then it turned another way, a way which changed the ways of Hogwarts students for a very long time.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry breathed. "What about Fred and George?!"

Dumbledore, who had arrived at some point without any of them noticing (he had a way of doing that), cracked up even more. "They would, my dear children, bewitch the games in a most unexpected way. Maybe they would make it so that each time you lose a life, you get boils in very uncomfortable places?"

"Or if you win a game, you get a free pass out of classes for a week!" added a hopeful Ron.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald," Hermione chided, completely ignoring the fact that she had been anything but serious in the past hour or so. "The teachers would never allow that. But Merlin knows what those two would be up to with a DS in their possession!"

As the conversation moved on to another topic, namely the fact that Cho Chang had thrown a snowball right in Malfoy's face during the last Quidditch match, claiming later it had been an accident (Snape was the one who brought that up, for some reason), two identical faces stared at each other behind the doors of the infirmary.

"You know what I think, Forge?"

"I think you think we can have a hell of a lot of fun with this, Gred."

The end?

_I am not sure whether to continue this or not. I have some ideas, but I need some encouragement from you people! *cough* That meant reviews *cough*If enough people enjoyed this, then I will continue. So if you did like it, don't forget to put it on alert in case I do!_


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